


Every Road You Take

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: When I See You Again Trilogy [3]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4592481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick wasn’t going to rest until his whole family was home and safe. It turns out, Damian wasn’t going to either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Road You Take

**Author's Note:**

> The final part of the _When I See You Again_ trilogy! A bit jumbly and a little different from the other two, but oh well. Damian doesn’t have his powers anymore, and no one else knew of his plot. He had no idea his plan would work, and if it hadn’t he’d probably would have gone into a major depression. Bruce will be annoyed he didn’t catch on, and Dick is gonna get yelled at by everyone. But Damian doesn’t leave his side for a week or so, so it’s all worth it. Set with the idea the Dick also doesn’t know Damian’s alive.

~~

_And every road you take, will always lead you home._

~~

**8:00am BST**

The knock on the door was brief, and Dick barely had a chance to roll over before Helena was ducking into his dorm room, closing the door quickly behind her and leaning against it.

“Wha…?”

“I need you to remain calm, and be _rational_.” She explained quickly. Dick jerked up, immediately on alert. “Can you do that for me, Grayson?”

“Depends.” Dick answered seriously. “What’s the problem?”

“I need you to promise first.” Helena pushed. Dick didn’t answer this time, and after a few seconds of silence, Helena sighed. “There’s…been a threat. In Gotham.”

“What _kind_ of threat?”

Helena pursed her lips, inhaled sharply. “A bounty.”

Dick was already throwing the covers back, already reaching for a pair of pants, already knew the answer, before he even asked the question. “On who?”

“Your former allies.”

Dick hastily pulled on the trousers, picked up his shirt off the floor – still bloodstained from their last mission – though didn’t put it on. Just swung it over his shoulder as he grabbed his shoes and weapons from the ground. Helena automatically shifted out of the way as he grabbed the door handle and threw it open.

“Let’s go.”

~~

**10:15am EST**

“It’s no use.” Bruce decided, dropping the stills from the security footage on the kitchen table. Damian just glanced at them. “I don’t see another way.”

“I do.” Damian countered. “We do what we’ve always done. We fight them.”

“No. Not this time.” Bruce shook his head, though his voice was still surprisingly gentle. Always was these days, it seemed, especially when Damian’s safety was in question. “This is a new player. And I can’t quite read into their motives.”

“It’s simple. Their motive is ransom.” Damian countered. “Kidnap Batman’s allies, kidnap members of Batman Incorporated, and see who pays first and who pays the most – Bruce Wayne or Batman himself?”

Bruce kept shaking his head. “The last time there was a bounty-”

Damian instantly frowned. “ _Father_ …”

But Bruce continued, undeterred. “-we didn’t take it seriously, and we lost you. I’m not chancing that again. I’m not chancing losing you or _any_ of the others again.”

“A nice sentiment, for sure.” Damian tried. “But you’re not taking into account…we want to _help_ you. Your safety is _just_ as important as ours.”

Bruce risked a small smile. “Not quite.”

“ _Don’t_ talk like that.” Damian snapped, slamming his palm against the table. “You want to put us into hiding? Fine. But, Father, who’s to say we’ll actually _go?”_

Bruce paused, and Damian glanced up at him. He’d noticed, ever since his return, how much older his father looked. The bags under his eyes, the cold stares, the wrinkles, the signs of gray, in just the right lightning.

“I get it, Father. I do.” Damian tried quietly. “But you can’t shut us out. You can’t leave us behind.”

And it was another second, another moment before Bruce sighed, looked away from Damian, holding up the security footage – a sign, multiple signs, with crude drawings of Robin and the others on them, with the words _$200 million for a batkid, $500 million if DOA_ – again.

“I’m sorry, Damian. But I don’t see another way.” Bruce repeated softly, and Damian slumped. Bruce stood, rounding the table and running his hand slowly, thoughtfully, over Damian’s hair. “Now, go pack a bag. I’ll let Barbara know you’re on your way.”

~~

**11:45am EST**

His father was stubborn, but since Damian’s resurrection, he’d learned to concede a few points. Learned to compromise a little.

“You keep looking for them. I’ll walk to Gordon’s.” Damian had said. “I’ll have Titus with me, too. It’ll be a little difficult for them to pinpoint me if I’m perpetually moving, don’t you think?”

It was a weak argument, but Bruce had let him have it. Especially since he still had to contact and make arrangements for his siblings’ safety. And he couldn’t do that driving Damian across Gotham.

“Main roads only.” Bruce had ordered. “No shortcuts, no alleyways. Barbara will be monitoring your movement, and if she catches wind of any sort of detours, she’ll have one of the Supers there to grab you so fast you won’t have time to _blink_ , understand?”

Damian had rolled his eyes, but agreed.

So he’d packed his bag, gave his father a quick hug goodbye, a demand for him to stay safe, then hooked Titus’s leash and headed out the door.

But just one detour wouldn’t hurt. Right?

It was the other side of the house from the direction he wanted to go, but he could make the time. So long as he was at Barbara Gordon’s clock tower base by dusk, he was fine.

Bruce had been disappointed when he came home and found Richard Grayson’s grave destroyed. And Damian almost _laughed_ when it took the World’s Greatest Detective almost an hour to figure out that he had done it. The lecture had been halfhearted, the exasperation even less so.

But Dick Grayson wasn’t a subject you scolded Damian Wayne about.

Bruce had mentioned replacing the grave, an idea Damian nearly used his then-super-strength to throw his father through the wall about. Bruce shouted about honoring the fallen and Damian screamed back at him about lies and impossibilities.

In the end, though. Damian fixed it. Well… ‘fixed’ it.

He’d, of course, asked Todd’s permission first, before ripping the Second Robin’s grave marker out of the ground, and slamming it back amongst the remnants of Grayson’s. Using his finger, he’d merely carved a line through the name _Jason Todd_ , then presented it to his father as the replacement for his damage.

Bruce had been less than pleased.

(Todd was still laughing about it, all these weeks later.)

He stared down at the gravestone, ignoring Titus as he sniffed around its base. His feelings hadn’t changed. It was still a useless memorial. Still worthless to everyone in the family, him especially.

He was going to prove them all wrong. Drake had done it for their father, and he was going to do it for Grayson.

They all said Dick Grayson wasn’t alive. But Damian knew he couldn’t be _dead_.

So who, exactly, was incorrect?

It wasn’t _him_ , that was for _sure_.

He scoffed, kicked harshly at the stone, and watched it fall slowly backwards.

He was going to prove it. He was going to prove them all wrong-

Damian turned away, towards the front gates.

-and he was going to prove them all wrong _today_.

~~

**12:30pm EST**

It took a little longer to get to Gotham than Dick expected, and a little longer to make sure everyone was still safe, that he wasn’t too _late_.

He didn’t think he could ever forgive himself, if he was.

He tried calling Bruce, tried to find out any other information he could, but Bruce didn’t answer. Not that that was much of a surprise. After all, Bruce hadn’t told him in the first place, so he probably didn’t want Dick to know, period.

“Well, joke’s on you, Bruce,” Dick hummed as he climbed the stone wall around the Manor grounds. “Because here I am.”

And this was silly. He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be wasting his time. He had brothers and sisters to save, there was no time for pathetic nostalgia.

But he hadn’t seen Damian in so long.

He landed softly on the grass, stayed crouched as he glanced up at the house. There were no pets outside, no butlers tending to the garden. No sign that anyone was even home.

Good.

He shuffled slowly across the grass, glancing at the state of the Wayne Family Cemetery. The tombstones all looked nice and clean, and good for them. In the distance, he saw where Bruce said he’d put his own plot, and noticed there seemed something…off about it. It didn’t seem as maintained or…something.

But why should anyone waste time maintaining a grave he wasn’t six feet under.

He thought about going to look at it, see if there were any flowers or signs of recent visits, but decided against it.

His own grave wasn’t what he was here to see.

As he approached Damian’s memorial, he couldn’t help but frown. It’d been destroyed. Completely and utterly _demolished_ , and grass and weeds were already starting to climb over it. Meanwhile, Talia’s right next to it still stood tall, and even went as far as to now have her name engraved in it.

Dick circled it, his confusion quickly swelling into a guttural anger. Damian deserved better than this. He always had. For Gods’ sake, they let him _die!_ The least they could have done was given him a proper gravestone – with his _name on it_ – and kept it in a decent condition!

He took a sharp exhale, trying to keep his underlying fury at bay, then let it out in a long exhale as he crouched, rested his forearms on his knees.

“Sorry, Damian.” He whispered, staring down at the chipped remnants of rock. “If I were here, I would’ve…”

 _If I were here, I would have taken care of it. If I were_ there _, you might not have died in the first place._

_No, stop. Don’t go down that road, Grayson._

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat as he reached out, ran his fingers gently along the sharp, broken base.

“The family’s in trouble.” He said instead. “Someone’s put out a call to kill Cass and the boys. Steph and Babs, too. I’m hoping I can stop them before…well… _before_ …”

He felt the tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t finish that thought.

_Before you suddenly have a new friend there in the afterlife._

“You’ll help me, won’t you?” Dick choked out, running a sleeve across his eyes. “You’ll watch my back, point me in the right direction?”

Nothing answered, and the birds continued to chirp overhead.

“You and I against the world, Damian.” He muttered, falling to his knees and bending forward, leaving a gentle kiss against the chipped stone. “I’ll try to visit you again before I leave.”

Dick stood, moved back towards the wall he’d jumped over. He climbed it easily, and stood atop it for a second, glancing back at the house before letting his gaze fall back to his youngest brother’s dismantled memorial. He sighed once more, turning and jumping back into the forest.

“See you soon, kiddo.”

~~

**2:15pm EST / 7:15pm BST**

“You were so quick to get there, and now you’re going to take a nap?” Helena barked over the radio connection. “Shouldn’t you be tracking down the ones who put out the bounty?”

“Have you forgotten everything I’ve _ever_ told you about Gotham?” Dick chuckled, pulling the roof hatch open and dropping into the loft apartment. “Even if they weren’t hiding pretty damn well – which, by the way, they _are_ , I tried to track them my whole flight over here and got nothing – baddies in Gotham don’t operate during the day. Neither do the Bats, so it’d be pretty pointless for any sort of assassins or kidnappers to be out waiting for them somewhere over lunchtime. Searching for them now would be useless.”

Helena hummed, and Dick heard the distinct sounds of a hidden yawn. “I’m not quite sure I would agree with your line of thinking, Grayson. If it were my allies, my…my _family_ in danger like this, I don’t think I could sleep. Not until I either knew where all the players were or everything was resolved.”

“To be fair, I said I was going to try and _rest_ , not _nap_. That was you.” Dick countered. “But, yeah, I understand you. And there’s a reason I’m giving myself about six hours to try.” He smirked, and knew Helena would be able to hear it over the line. “And remember I did say _try_.”

And just as she could hear the smirk, he definitely heard her rolling her eyes. “The apartment is still rented out to Batman Incorporated, you know. I thought that was defunct?”

“It is.” Dick exhaled, walking through the flat. Despite the sun shining through the windows, the whole place had an eerie, almost dead, feel to it. It was still dark, still dusty, still cold. Still empty. “But even after I…I died, doesn’t mean the secret weapons cache just went away. Have to keep it out of the wrong hands somehow, you know?”

“I suppose.” Helena agreed. “But that’s not what I’m worried about. If it’s still connected to Batman Inc., wouldn’t that mean the Bats still have access to it?”

“I imagine so.”

“So…they think you’re dead.” And Helena almost sounded…well, sympathetic about that fact. “What happens if today just so happens to be a day one of them stop by?”

In truth, Dick had already thought of that. And in truth, he was tired of the spy game. He almost hoped the likes of Tim or Stephanie just so happened to come strolling into the apartment, just so happened to catch him. He wouldn’t run, he wouldn’t lie.

He just wanted to go home.

“Thought of that. I’ll deal with it.” Dick waved off, flopping onto the couch. He noticed the cushion on the end by the window was new, didn’t match the rest. He also noticed his coffee table was gone. “Listen, Helena, I’m going to go, alright? Try to get that rest. Or plan my attack for tonight. Or something. Call me if you get any intel?”

“Will do.” Helena sighed. “And Grayson?”

“Yeah?”

“For the love of God, be _careful_.” She ordered. “If not for the fact that you’re still needed for Spyral, but the fact that I don’t think your family would handle it very well if you really _did_ die.”

“Will do.” Dick repeated with a laugh. “Talk to you later, Matron.”

She hung up without another word, and Dick stretched out across the couch, stared up at the ceiling. He thought about the evidence, what it all might mean. He thought about his family, his brothers and sisters, and where they were all living now. About their security systems and fighting skills. Bruce was explicitly named as a non-target in one of the threat messages, and Dick wondered if he’d gathered up the family and hid them in the cave.

He wondered if he’d run into Bruce tonight.

He almost hoped so, if only to demand answers. Like, why wasn’t he told about the threat to his siblings? Why wasn’t he asked for help? What the hell happened to Damian’s grave?

What happened on Apokolips?

Because he knew about the mission, of course he did. He offered to go, to be on that front line. If it got Damian back, hell, he’d sacrifice his own arm, his own _life_ , to get that little boy back.

But Bruce had said no. Bruce had promised to keep him in the loop. Bruce had been gone for two days, and when he came back onto Dick’s radar, he never said a word about the mission’s outcome.

So he’d assumed no news was bad news, and left it at that.

Dick took a deep breath, and slowly let it out as he turned on his side, curled up against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes.

Six hours until sundown.

As he drifted off, he wondered if they would deliver pizza to a dead man’s apartment. He wondered how suspicious that would look.

And as he heard a loud barking on the street below, he wondered if his family would be happy to see him if they found him there.

~~

**2:30pm EST**

It wasn’t a shortcut. It wasn’t a detour. If anything, it was just the long way around. And Barbara Gordon was smart, there was a reason she was called the Oracle. That and the fact one of the Supers hadn’t appeared out of nowhere yet told him that she didn’t entirely mind his path choice.

Titus recognized the street almost instantly. Damian had brought him here enough times after all. And it was habit that had the dog barking instantly, veering off towards the apartment’s main doors.

“Nu-uh.” Damian murmured, pulling back on the leash with both hands. “No flat today. There’s no treats up there for you anymore.”

But Titus didn’t listen, still trying to drag Damian across the street, still whining towards that obnoxious blue awning that announced the apartment complex’s name in a far-too-fancy script. Damian stopped in his tracks, and kept yanking Titus back, until the dog slowly sat on his haunches. He grunted as he fought with Titus’s weight, glancing up towards the dark windows of Grayson’s old loft.

“Oi, Kid! Hey, kid!” Damian blinked, glancing back down at the apartment building’s door. It was the doorman, a new one, one Damian didn’t recognize from his visits to Grayson’s apartment before. He was old, and angry-looking. “Quit yer loiterin’!”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m across the _street_.”

“Loiterin’ is loiterin’.” The man snapped, pointing his finger in an attempt to look threatening. “Now either you and yer horse-dog get movin’ or I’m callin’ PD, got it?!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going!” Damian waved off with a drawl. He exhaled, staring up at those windows once more. Even from seven stories down, he could tell the place was empty. Abandoned, really.

But then, suddenly, surprisingly, Damian smiled. Smirked triumphantly.

Because if he had anything to do with it, it wouldn’t be for much longer.

~~

**8:45pm EST**

“Any word?” Damian asked, chugging down the energy drink as he walked up to Oracle’s computer monitors.

“Tim and Steph are hunkered down at Steph’s university, in the basketball arena.” Barbara explained, then under her breath. “…Weird option, but I’m not questioning it.”

“Does Cassandra have Todd? Or is he doing the whole ‘I can do this own my own’ shpeal again?” Damian asked, sounding actually curious. Actually concerned. Barbara almost cooed.

“Cass has Jay, and they’re in Kory’s big spaceship thing, with a twelve-pack and the full _Indiana Jones_ movie set.” She hit a few keys, and the two in question popped up on the main screen.

“Good, I suppose.”

“Mhm. And you’re here, with your incredibly massive dog.” Barbara finished. Suddenly she turned, eyes fierce. “And you’re going to _stay_ here, with your incredibly massive dog. You got that?”

Damian scoffed. “My father needs me.”

“Potentially true.” Barbara conceded. “But also potentially true is the fact that someone is out there trying to _murder you for money_. And you’ve already used your _get out of death free_ card, so.” She glanced judgmentally down at Damian’s Robin uniform before turning back to her computer. “No sir. Robin is grounded for the night.”

“Robins cannot be _grounded_.” Damian huffed, crossing his arms, staring up at the video of Drake and Brown breaking into the equipment room at the basketball arena. And it was a low blow, he had almost used it on his father that morning, but he had to make a point. “You just mentioned what happened _last time_ I was grounded. Do we really want to repeat it?”

Barbara paused in her typing, glancing coldly over her shoulder. “Don’t you dare, Damian Wayne.”

Damian tried to hold his ground. “It’s either I walk out of here with your full knowledge of my actions, or I sneak out. Your choice, Gordon.”

And it was a perk, Damian had noticed, since his return. Everyone was putty in his hands. Because no one wanted to argue with the dead boy. No one wanted to upset the one they all failed to protect. Granted, it was a perk he didn’t enjoy using – he’d caused these people enough pain, he hardly wanted to be the reason for _more_ – but he did when it was necessary.

Especially for something this important.

“Trust me, Gordon. I’ll be safe.” Damian muttered gently. “I’ll be safer out there, in the field, than here. If my death proved anything, it’s that.”

Barbara slowly bowed her head, began to absently shake it.

“And it’s not like none of us have put ourselves out there as bait before.” Damian continued, talking that final step forward, and putting his hand gently on Barbara’s arm. It seemed like it was a habit, her covering his fingers with her own. “Besides, if I’m out there, if I’m seen, we might just be able to catch these losers a lot faster than if it’s just my father looking for them.”

“Then we’ll plan tonight.” Barbara whispered, squeezing his fingers. “You and I will set up a whole sting tonight, and when your father stops in tomorrow morning – because you know he will – we’ll tell him the plan and implement it tomorrow night.”

Damian smiled, soft and sweet. “You know we can’t let these monsters be on the street that long.”

Barbara sighed, closed her eyes. “Damian-”

“I’ll stay in contact the whole time, I promise. I’ll check in every ten minutes. Every _five_ , if you want. You can be my eyes and ears, and if you see something you think I really can’t handle, you tell me. You call me back, and I’ll come. I _swear_.” Damian rambled quickly, twisting his wrist and clamping his other hand down, sandwiching Barbara’s hand between his. “Okay? Is that okay?”

“No.” Barbara admitted, but when she looked up, she was smiling. Smiling through watery eyes. “But when have you boys ever listened to me?”

Damian’s shoulders slumped, and he let his own tired grin wash over his face. “You were always my favorite, Gordon.”

Barbara barked a laugh, leaning back in her wheelchair and pulling her hand from Damian’s. “We both know that is the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

Damian began to back away, reaching behind him for the window. “Keep the others safe. Make sure none of them leave their…incredibly odd hideouts.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay Mr. Hypocrite.”

Damian found the windowsill, turned his body towards it to open it, while keeping his eyes firmly on Barbara. “You won’t regret this, Gordon. I promise.”

“Well, I already do, but.” Barbara sighed. And she didn’t let on, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly suspicious of his wording. In fact, she was starting to feel slightly suspicious about his whole attempt at bartering. “You keep your comms _on_ , do you _understand_ me?”

“Loud and clear.” Damian nodded, and gave her a two-fingered salute as he stepped out through the window. “Be back soon, Oracle.” He paused, then let his grin grow wider. “Potentially with a gift, as well.”

“You…” Barbara’s snap paused halfway. Paused just long enough for Damian to disappear into the night. “…better?”

~~

**11:00pm EST**

The message hit every major news network at the same time.

_Robin the Boy Wonder has been captured._

~~

**2:30am EST**

Dick was struggling to breathe. Struggling to move, struggling to _think_.

He…it…

Robin was captured. But there was no _new_ Robin. No blurry pictures of a new kid in the colors. No word from Bruce. No chatter around the internet.

So that could only mean one thing.

The Robin captured was…Damian.

Robin was still Damian.

Damian was _alive_.

Damian was alive and was just _captured by murderers_.

He began to tear the city apart. Looked in every dark hole, in every abandoned building. On every roof, every basement. Questioned every person he came across, every thug, every mugger, every cop. He was already starting to hear new rumours about himself, that there was a new dark shadow wreaking havoc on the city. To stay out of his way or he’ll beat you senseless.

He felt that fury build up in his soul once more. The old sense of apathy that he’d thought he’d shaken off months ago. Felt it eat away at every bit of rationality he ever held. No one hurts his family. No one hurts _his_ siblings. No one hurts his _Robin_.

They’d lost Damian before.

Dick would be damned if he let that boy be taken from them again.

Dick tried to remain calm. Took deep breaths and long exhales. Loosened his muscles from the tight fists they were making.

Not again.

Not again, not again, not _again_.

He ground his teeth together as he hit the communicator attached to his ear, changed the frequency. When he heard the whoosh of wind, he knew he’d hit the right one.

“Birdwatcher to Mr. Malone.” He grunted, heard Bruce’s gasp.

“Not a good time, ‘Watcher.” And Dick could hear the panic in Bruce’s voice. Good. “I’ll call back in a few hours.”

Dick snorted a harsh laugh, flashed a quick grin. “What do you need me to do?”

The wind on the line stopped, and Dick heard the crunching of a rooftop-landing. “What do you-”

“I’m in Gotham, Bruce. And I know what’s happened. I saw the news report.” Dick explained. “Now. What do you need me to do?”

“I…” But Bruce was smart enough not to bother, letting it drift off into a sigh. “Check the East Side docks. The one we believe to be the gang’s leader was seen there two hours ago.”

“Got it.” He took another deep breath, closed his eyes as he turned towards the docks. “And Bruce?”

“Hm.”

“ _When_ I bring him home? You and I are going to be having an incredibly _long_ chat.”

And he didn’t have to see his adoptive father to know the man was pursing his lips, near pouting.

“Understood?”

“Completely.” Bruce droned. And after a pause, Dick heard another whoosh as Bruce took off again. “Now let’s bring our boy home, Birdwatcher.”

~~

**6:15am EST**

It took hours. _So many hours_. And Dick wanted to give up. He was exhausted, and ragged, and quickly losing hope.

But they hadn’t found Damian yet, and he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t rest again until he did.

 _I didn’t save him last time. Not saving him this time_ isn’t _an option._

But the frustration was taking hold. Because, all those hours were spent here, at the East Side docks. He was as thorough here as he’d been throughout the whole city, but had barely made a dent in the entire area he needed to search.

And he was about to ring Bruce. About to call his mentor and ask if he’d found any clues – because apparently that’s what Dick had to do now, he had to _ask_ for the information he should have been the _first_ to receive – when he heard a shout a few warehouses away.

Dick hesitated only a second. He had a very specific path he was following and going to check out this noise would take him completely off of it.

But a lead is a lead, and this could be his break to find his brother.

The shout turned into a low cackle, turned into quite a few low cackles, really, and Dick could hear someone trying to shush the others as he slowly approached. As he leaned over the rooftop, he saw a group of four men standing together, chatting and smoking outside of an open warehouse door. The light from inside washed over them, illuminating the knives and guns on all of their hips. None of them were wearing any specific colors, any specific gang signs. And Dick couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in suspicion.

Wasn’t that…odd.

Names were everything in Gotham, and Dick had never seen a gang or their thugs go without one.

“Hey!” A fifth man appeared as a silhouette in the doorway. Dick slowly crawled across the roof, trying to get a look inside the space. “Any word from the boss?”

“Same message as we’ve been gettin’ all night. He’ll ‘be here soon.’” A man sighed as he tossed his cigarette to the ground. “I dunno, boys. I’m starting to get a little fishy about this boss.”

“Like he’d ditch us.” The silhouette scoffed. “He knows how fragile alliances in Gotham are. He knows if he fucks with us we’ll get him taken down by the first gang we come across.”

Dick couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Alliances were fragile, yes, but this man seemed to forget what happened to snitches and deserters.

“A’ight, you’re all worried about yourselves, whatever.” Another man spat, sounding tired and annoyed. “But I think you’re all forgetting the real problem here.”

The others remained quiet in waiting. And even Dick paused to hear his response.

“We’ve got a damn _kid_ in there.” He explained slowly, like his cohorts spoke a different language. “And he’s going to need to _eat something soon_.”

Dick’s heart near leapt into his throat.

There was another second of silence before the others began to grumble, all shuffling back into the warehouse.

“You’re such a damn bleedin’ heart, Galinsky.”

“Better a bleedin’ heart from me than a bleedin’ kid when Batman shows up. I’ll gladly take _just_ the two million…” Galinsky muttered, stomping after them. Dick leaned over the edge of the roof, holding his breath as he waited for the small mob of men to disperse, to stop blocking his view of the inside.

Come on, come on…

An involuntary gasp. _There_.

He was collapsed in the center of the floor, arms bound behind his back and legs awkwardly curled around him, tied at the knees and ankles. Eyes tired behind the mask, head bowed sleepily. He didn’t look hurt, though, and, really, for the kidnappers’ sakes, that was a good thing.

But that was almost an afterthought. Almost nonexistent behind the joy bubbling in his throat. The sheer _jubilation_ churning in his soul.

The last time he’d seen Damian, the boy was covered in his own blood and _dead_.

But then, that anger came slamming back down.

These men were going to pay for taking him.

He jumped silently into the small courtyard, curling as his feet hit the ground and slowly rising back to his full height. No one inside noticed him, though he took note of Damian’s half-lidded eyes opening just slightly.

He had a thought, a flash-forward, maybe. Of holding Damian in his arms, of tucking him into bed, in that big, empty, _safe_ house, on the outside of Gotham.

_Not just yet, Grayson. One thing at a time._

He ran to the edge of the doorway and peeked in. There was one guard watching Damian, though he seemed to not be focusing on him a whole lot. The five from outside had joined another group of seven in the corner, watching a card game.

And once again, suspicion pierced Dick’s mind like an arrow. This all seemed…incredibly casual. A little _too_ casual. Despite how often it happened, stealing the Bat’s bird was a serious offence, and these men should be terrified for their lives.

Was their boss just that confident? Or that stupid?

Dick wasn’t waiting to find out.

He hit the button behind his ear, making sure his Hypnos was activated – still after everything, he was going to follow Bruce’s orders after all, and his siblings weren’t supposed to know he was alive – and shifted further into the entryway.

And Damian was a master at their craft, so it came as no surprise when his exhausted eyes shot up instantly, when his head turned directly towards Dick.

And Dick didn’t know what he saw – not his older brother, that was for sure – but he couldn’t help but grin. Couldn’t help but raise a finger to his lips in a gesture of shush.

Damian’s face scrunched, and his eyes narrowed, but he obeyed nonetheless.

Good boy.

He timed it for when Damian’s guard was completely turned away, when he was shouting about a beer, raising his hands completely off the gun strapped across his chest. In that second, he darted inside, heading straight for the card game.

And it was nice, oddly enough, those looks of fear on the kidnappers’ faces, that second before he hit them. The second his shadow loomed over them like the Bat he once was.

The takedowns were easy. Simple punches to the face, a nerve strike here and there, he literally just _tripped_ one of them. It would have been easier if there weren’t so many. If there weren’t thirteen of them, and it didn’t take just a moment for their fight or flight to kick in.

He saw it in the corner of his eye, one of the thugs back away from the group, just as he was busy fighting three others. He saw him raise his gun, but point it away from the fight.

Away from him, and straight at Damian.

 _“No!”_ He roared. And even as he felt an arm wrap around his neck, a gun shoved into his side, he turned his head. “Robin, get d-”

His voice died in his throat. Because Damian wasn’t sitting helpless on the ground anymore. His legs weren’t tied anymore. He was standing there, a few feet behind his guard, watching the battle with intense interest. His arms were still bound, but that didn’t matter, not yet.

Suddenly, all other sounds were drowned out. The grunting and the shouting. All he heard was Damian.

“Oracle.” He muttered, and Dick saw his shoulders shift. “I need an EMP pulse at my location. Now.”

It wasn’t the most polite request, but if the loud zoom of all the lights shutting down was any indication, Barbara didn’t quite mind.

And as the goons shouted in confusion, as the arm around his neck loosened and the gun retreated, Dick couldn’t help but wonder why Damian made that request. It gave him no tactical advantage, no sort of one-up on the enemies, so why-

Wait.

An EMP pulse. That affected every electronic thing in the target area. Lights, weapons, computers.

Hypnos.

The lights didn’t turn back on, but everyone could still see in the sun rising over the harbor. The men could all see the mysterious attacker. Dick could still see Damian.

Damian, whose eyes had now widened, Damian, who had a slow grin washing across his face. Damian, who jerked his arms outwards and suddenly the rope was trailing off his left wrist as he brought his arms forward.

And all he said was, all he whispered was, “I knew it.”

Without warning, he launched at his guard, stabbing his arm with a batarang and throwing him to the ground.

Dick came out of his trance, then. There were only six thugs left, and he could take them easily.

Even easier now, that he had a partner.

The fight lasted another thirty seconds maximum, but as soon as the last gunman was down, Dick wasted no time.

“We have to go.” He breathed, grabbing Damian’s arm and dragging him towards the entryway. “We have to get you to Bruce-”

“Grayson-”

“We have to get you home-”

“Stop, it’s-”

“We have to get you _safe_.” He spoke over the younger, pulling him outside. “There’s still someone out here trying to kill you, trying to kill your family and we need to prote-”

“Grayson, there’s no one after us!” Dick was surprised when Damian yanked his arm out of his grip. He spun around instantly, took in the boy’s serious face.

“Damian, there _is_.” He tried gently. “And those men’s boss is going to be here any-”

“There _is_ no boss.” Damian pushed as he stepped forward, as a coy smirk melted onto his cheeks. “There is only _me_.”

Dick paused, then. Stared down at the boy, at his brother, at the one he was so proud to call his partner, and thought over all the evidence. All his suspicions he’d had since he’d gotten to the docks.

It was too casual. The takedown was too easy. And _Damian_ …

Damian hadn’t been hurt. Damian had easily gotten out of those bonds. Hell, he glanced down at the rope still tangled around Damian’s wrist, he was starting to think Damian was never really even tied up at all.

His eyes moved back up to Damian’s, and the child’s grin grew brighter. Dick couldn’t help but gape, just a little. “You didn’t…”

“I _did_.” Damian nodded. “Pretty good, huh?”

“But, Damian.” Dick’s mind was reeling. Damian set this up? Damian did all this? Damian…terrified his father and all of his allies on _purpose_? “Wha…why? _How?_ ”

“Simple enough.” Damian shrugged, though Dick could see in the smirk he was proud of himself. “Some of Todd’s old henchmen were looking for work and, as it turns out, Todd still had much of their contact information. A few calls, a few empty promises, a little bit of voice alteration and here we are.”

“You were _kidnapped_.”

“That’s what the world believed. That’s what those men inside thought. But in reality I _let_ myself be captured.”

“O-kay.” Dick ground out incredulously. He believed it, oh, he _believed_ Damian would do something ridiculous. He believed Damian was capable of something this _crazy_. The only thing he _couldn’t_ believe was that there was a logical reason. He had to ask though. “But _why_.”

“Simple.” Damian repeated as he shrugged again. This time, however, it was just one shoulder. One shoulder rising and dropping shyly. “You’d come back.”

Dick’s racing mind suddenly came to a screeching halt. “What?”

“You always come back when we’re in trouble.” Damian clarified solemnly. “When me or Drake or Cassandra or…or _anyone_. When we’re in trouble, you always came back, from wherever you were, to _save_ us.” Damian paused, eyes fierce and determined, and just the tiniest bit innocent. “I could not find record of a time when you _didn’t_.”

And if Dick was in his right mind, he would have argued. _I wasn’t there to save Jason,_ he would have said. _I wasn’t there to protect Barbara._

But Dick wasn’t in his right mind. He was exhausted and relieved and confused. Because Damian set this up. Because Damian was apparently never in danger. Because apparently _none_ of them were. Because Bruce’s assertion that his family all believed him to have _died_ , to be dead and buried, was evidently not the whole truth.

Dick was still going to ask, though. Still going to whisper, _What did Bruce tell you, Damian? Did you know, while the rest of the family didn’t? Were you in on the secret?_ But didn’t get a chance to. Damian answered the unasked question with his own murmur, a continuation of his previous explanation.

“So why would death change anything?”

_Oh._

And then it hit him, all at once. The look on Damian’s face – it wasn’t _innocence_. It was _hope_. It was relief. It was faith, being _rewarded_.

“No one believed me.” Suddenly all of Damian’s cockiness was gone, and Dick could see his shoulders trembling, hear his voice wavering. He remembered, suddenly, that he wasn’t the only one who had stayed up all night. “They…they thought I was _crazy_. They thought I was…was in _denial_. But I knew-”

Dick stepped forward. “Damian-”

“I _knew_ you couldn’t be dead!” Tears flew from the child’s eyes as he jerked his head from side to side. “I knew it couldn’t happen! That it was some kind of…of fluke! Some kind of a _lie!_ ” He seemed about to collapse, seemed to stumble just slightly. Caught himself by taking a step back. “I told them. I-I…Grayson, I _told_ them-”

Another step. “Damian-”

“I told them and they all _laughed_.”

One more. “-It’s okay.”

“They said I was crazy and I was starting to _believe_ them-” Damian’s breath hitched painfully, and his eyes widened. “But I couldn’t believe that you were…that _you were_ …”

“It’s okay.” Dick reiterated tenderly as he dropped to his knees, as he took hold of Damian’s shoulders. He smiled, felt his own eyes misting as he squeezed at Damian’s arms. “ _I’m here.”_

Damian gaped, looking like a beached fish as he searched for words. Dick gave a light chuckle, raising his hand to hold Damian’s cheek.

“I’m here, Damian. Right here. With _you_. And I can tell you for a fact,” He blinked, felt a single tear crawl down his own face. “You’re _not_ crazy.”

Damian huffed, pursed his lips like he were a toddler, raised one arm to wipe roughly at his face. “Grayson.”

“Damian.” Dick returned playfully.

Damian pouted further, finally tearing his gaze away from Dick’s, staring out at the muddy waters of the harbor. “Father told us that you-”

“I know what he told you.” Dick said gently. He didn’t want to repeat that, if he could. Because he didn’t want to _be_ that, not anymore. Not to his family. Not to Gotham. Not to Damian. “If it makes you feel better, he did the opposite to me.” Damian glanced back curiously. “He didn’t tell me that _you_ were _alive_.”

“…Father will have a lot of explaining to do, then.” Damian concluded with a sniff, and Dick noticed the blush creeping across his face as Dick stroked his thumb across his cheekbone, wiping away a few errant tears. “You will too, by the way. Oracle-” He shifted one shoulder again, pressing it against his ear in indication of his communicator. “-has been watching this whole time.”

“Of course she has. And of course _I_ will. And so will you, because _holy crap_ , Damian, you just posed as a homicidal _crime boss_ and caused a _whole bunch_ of problems.” Dick exhaled, releasing Damian’s face, and pushing off the ground to stand. “But for now?”

Damian watched him, silent and trusting as Dick threw his arm across his shoulders and pulled him into his side. He stared up at Dick in childish expectation, and Dick couldn’t help but grin.

His baby brother was alive. His baby brother was alive and terrorizing Gotham, all to prove a point, all to reward himself for his faith. All to show the family that they were wrong. All to bring Dick _home_.

Incredible. His life was incredible. This _kid_ was incredible.

He leaned down, left a kiss on the boy’s hairline, and then rubbed at his shoulder.

“Let’s go home.”


End file.
